House of Mirrors
by Snowfire11
Summary: Jonathan Crane fell into the darkness of insanity,and he watched as his world collapsed around him. Is Jonathan Crane no more? Perhaps, or maybe not. JC/OC- First Batfic
1. Chapter 1

**AN:Hey guys, um this is just a little story that had been nibbling at my mind FOREVER! It was driving me mad so I had to write it down, this may or may not become an actual chapter story, but if you want it to I can write more. Well, please enjoy!**

* * *

Thunder clapped loudly in the silence of the dying Gotham City streets. It was another stormy night, one of the many this month. The sky was covered in dark massive, heavy clouds, layering the already night sky in complete darkness. The only thing that illuminated the sky was the bright white flashes of blinding lightning. Outside the world was drowning, becoming drenched in the tears of the cold sky.

Jonathan Crane was laying in his bed, his unworldly blue eyes were wide open. The lightning flashed through his closed windows, setting the room aglow in the white light for a second. The room was set into bright illumination and then fell back into the darkness once again. Jonathan waited in the darkness for the thunder to clap, he only waited for a moment. Jonathan laid in the darkness for another moment, before lightning flashed once more revealing the handsome face that was his own. Dark wavy black hair was sprawled over his creamy, pale skin, and blue eyes were surrounded by dark purple bags on high cheekbones.

The young man looked tired, beaten, and broken. He looked like a depressed and tormented man, which was exactly what he was. He was tormented by his other self, Scarecrow. You see, Scarecrow wasn't exactly a new face to him, he had been around since his childhood. Jonathan had talked to it or him growing up, with a drunken father and a lonely mother with no other siblings, Jonathan was a lonely and intelligent boy. In his lonely days Jonathan had taken to talking to Scarecrow, which had matured from a burlap sack to a being of his mind with a name. It was only until Jonathan grew up and he had stopped talking to it when Scarecrow began to appear more and more often. Scarecrow had caused him quite a bit of torment and obsession in the past.

For example, when Jonathan had finally turned 16 and he was accepted to college, he should have buried that burlap sack into the recesses of his garbage can, but he couldn't. No, he had taken it along with him, to college and through the years after it. It would have been in the best interest of his sanity to have thrown out that piece of cloth when he could. He may have been saved. But then again, maybe not, maybe he still would have ended like this, tormented by the raging fire in his mind. Scarecrow had never previously been violent, it was only until after Jonathan had earned the title of _doctor_was when he began to make different and unusual appearances.

It was after Jonathan had left school and was teaching at Gotham University as a psychology professor was when Scarecrow invaded his mind. It was a Wednesday when Jonathan's mind was taken over. With no control to the fire burning in his mind, Jonathan was left defenceless to the insanity the day Scarecrow made Jonathan fire a handgun in the classroom, the shot mere inches away from one of his students. In all the panic of the room, Jonathan was calm or he seemed so, inside he was faintly screaming, screaming for him to take control again. Screaming for his other self to go away. The academic board left Jonathan jobless, left to rot on the dying streets of Gotham city. For a year Jonathan was left alone in his apartment day after day, wishing for a miracle, or anything for his old life. Everyday Jonathan's achievements and hard work faded into oblivion. And each day he went from 'Dr. Crane' to 'That guy in apartment 280'. Day by day, Scarecrow took hold of Jonathan, gaining the upper hand quietly, but not unnoticed. Over the period of a year Scarecrow became the soundtrack of Jonathan's life. Then a miracle happened.

It came in the simplest of forms, a job. The job Jonathan had been asked to accept was as Psychology Administrator at Arkham Asylum, for the criminally insane. Jonathan accepted the job, believing his life could be rewinded, like a record, a never ending cycle. Life continued on normally for a while, Jonathan would wake up and go to his job helping people, he enjoyed it at first, as Jonathan. Eventually though Scarecrow took over when a mysterious man showed up at Jonathan's office man revealed himself as Ra's Al Gul a man seeking on using a drug on Gotham, he said he wanted a man that could create that drug, he believed Jonathan could. Scarecrow agreed and took the secret ingredient from the man and began working on the drug. As though in a dream sequence Jonathan began to feel himself be lost in the chaos of his life, he slowly began to feel unlike himself. Jonathan hated the sounds of his patients screams as the cowered on the ground pulling out their hair or ripping at walls with non-existent nails. Scarecrow on the other hand, screamed with shrill glee, taking in the sounds of terror.

When the gas was released Jonathan was no longer himself he had become a different being. He was cold, mercilious man, taken over by his own mind. Insane wasn't the word to describe him, but maybe broken was. Jonathan knew of his other self, he knew about his 'multiple personality disorder'. He had diagnosed himself, but he had no intention of getting help, after all he was a wanted man, who would help him now anyway? Jonathan could have gotten help when he noticed Scarecrow growing more and more powerful, but some part of him didn't want to rid himself of him. Scarecrow had been his only friend, he had been there with him through everything. Through the bullying and the torture, so Jonathan figured that was why he could never let him go. Jonathan was frightened of Scarecrow, he was frightened for his sake, and the sake of others too. Currently though, Jonathan had calmed Scarecrow, he was no longer in control of Jonathan. He was relived at this, but still the things Scarecrow made him do still haunted his dreams.

* * *

**AN: Hey thanks for reading! Like I said earlier this was just a little experiment story. To be honest I am really pleased with this, but it's your oppinion that counts. So please review this and tell me if you might be interested in this becoming a chapter fic. **

**So take care and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Hello my readers I am back! Its been such a long time since I have posted so i apologise, the school year is coming to an end which means MORE TIME TO WRITE! Gah, I am so excited for that!

Ok So this chapter would not have been possible without the help of my betas. CrypticButterfly and Highlandgirl1592, who are the mosts amazing beta's in the world. Although, for a whicle I havent been able to contact either of them, and I got very very excited to post this. I am very sorry if I came off as rude.

Well, hope you enjoy this chapter and please, please remember to review! Bye! :)

* * *

Jonathan started disgusted at the bowl of the soggy, sloppy cereal in front of him. The supposed meal was disgusting, filthy and completely repulsing. The cereal was stale, it had gone bad weeks ago, and apparently his milk expired a few days ago. Jonathan was so tired from lack of sleep when he prepared the meal he didn't bother to realize _what _he was putting in the dirty bowl. The spoonful he shoved in his mouth was rotten, the foul taste was enough to make Jonathan want to vomit. So after numerous teeth brushings and mouth rinsings Jonathan found himself here, glaring daggers at the repulsive food in front of him. It would be foolish to eat it, but at the current moment it was the only food Jonathan had in his ratty apartment.

Jonathan hadn't bought grocerys in a month.

Jonathan was low on money, considering the fact he lost his job at Arkham Asylum some few months ago. The only income he was receiving was the good sum from Scarecrow, when he sold the fear toxin to the local Narrow mobsters late in the night. The last time this event had accured had been nearly three months ago, but still after earning a large sum then it was nowhere enough for Jonathan to live on for a long period of time. Jonathan felt that paying his bills was a bit more important than feeding himself. Plus, what Jonathan had been eating wasn't really even considered food.

For the 6 months since the fear toxin was released Jonathan had been living off of Ramen noodles, soup and tap water.

The warm bowl of crap sitting in front of him told something that was very, very important.

He needed food.

* * *

The bright florescent lights boiled overhead as Jonathan Crane weaved his way through the crowded grocery store. The loose wheel on his large metal cart wobbled dangerously, making loud ticking noises that burned into Jonathan's brain like a metronome. Waves of unwelcome anxiety crashed on Jonathan's calm as he piled food into his cart, listening to the now familiar tick of the wheel. He hastily made his way through the store, avoiding other people at all cost. The fear of being recognised pounded at Jonathan's mind, sending nauseating thoughts into his dizzy head.

Jonathan brought his cart to a stop, the annoying wheel finally silenced. Jonathan sighed, calming ever so slightly at the silence that rung around him. Shrugging off his anxiety for a moment, Jonathan averted his beautiful blue eyes to the shelves around him. Sighing inwardly, Jonathan reached upward for a can of soup above him but froze. His breathing grew sharp as the sound of footsteps entered his ears. Jonathan stiffened as a young lady, roughly around his age entered the aisle. She casually glanced at Jonathan, her gaze sliding over him quickly. Jonathan stopped breathing for a moment, his heart thudding in his chest painfully. Jonathan forced on his calm facade, glancing at the young woman with a small peak from out of the corner of his eye. She was still looking at him. Something resembling recognition flashed in her green eyes, that somehow made Jonathan frozen to the spot.

_I need to get out of here_, he thought hastily. Despite his ringing thoughts Jonathan couldn't move, he wasn't able. Jonathan felt his sweaty, trembling hand loose grip on his soup can, and it went tumbling to the floor.

Jonathan's sparp blue eyes locked onto the soup can, its bright logo burning into his eyes. Hastily, Jonathan scrambled to the floor. He reached out and he clasped the can, the metal cold against his sweaty palm. Jonathan rose back up, his locked onto the can as he placed it back in the cart. The metal ringing softly as the items rattled around in the cold grey prison of the cart. Jonathan turned back to the shelves and fought back the embarrassment growing in his stomach. In his moment of distraction he didn't see the small figure hurtling toward him. Out of nowhere, a sudden pain shot through Jonathan's lower back and feet, the swift pain, mild but uncomfortable brought Jonathan to the ground. He had just been hit by a shopping cart!

"Oh my god! Are you alright?"

Jonathan looked up, and saw a young woman standing above him, her short chestnut hair dangerously close to his face. The young woman was gaping down at him in shock.

"I'm so sorry I didn't mean to hit you! I should have been paying more attention," the young woman stated, her cheeks were flushed a coral pink and her eyes were wide with a mixture of embarrassment and shock. "I'm really clumsy..." Jonathan gaped at her for a second before watching a smile take over her features. He watched in mild annoyance as the humor in the situation kicked in and her cheeks turned red as giggles flowed from her mouth, her failing attempts to keep from laughing were obviously proving unsuccessful. She took a deep breath and stoped abruptly. She was being very rude.

"It's quite alright, I wasn't hurt at all." Jonathan said before offering a reasuring smile to the young lady.

She returned the smile with a apologizing look.

"Really, I am _very_ sorry. I'm told all the time that I should be more careful and here I am running over people in the grocery store! But really I am so sorry! Is there anything I can do to repay you..."The young woman babbled on, her embarrassment obviously coming through again as she shuffled from foot to foot nervously.

"There's no need to apologize..."

"Yes there is! I just ran you over...with my shopping cart! There has to be a way that I can apologize!"

"There is no-"

"Let me take you out to dinner. I mean...eh, it is the only way to show how deeply sorry I am for running you over. I mean you could have been injured,or somehow worse! There is no other way to show my deep apologies."

Jonathan stared up at the woman. Her cheeks were beat red as she stared at him nervously. Was she that genuinley sorry?

Jonathan was just about to open him mouth and refuse hen she cut him off. "Please," She added. " I have a guilty conscience so if I dont do this, I wont be able to sleep for weeks." The young woman looked down at the ground as she sped through her words, they were fast rambles but, she seemed to mean them.

"Well, I suppose if you insist." Jonathan said with a reassuring smile. The young woman looked up at him, her eyes wide and shinning with hope. She clasped her hands together in glee and stepped a bit closer.  
"Oh thank you so much sir! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You have no idea how pleased I am right now."

Jonathan had an idea, the young woman was practically oozing out happiness. Her eyes were bright and her smile was glowing. It was obvious this did well for the woman's conscience. Instead of speaking Jonathan mearly smiled and offered out his hand, in a very buisness-like handshake that had become a habit since college.

"Ciara Woods." She introduced. The young woman clasped her small hand in his in a warm, polite handshake. She clasped his hand harder and pulled him up. He fixed his appearence slightly and stood upright.

"Jonathan Crane."

Somewhere is the ressesses of his mind, Jonathan was wondering what the hell he got himslef into.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hello again! Wow it feels like forever since I've posted! Well, I guess it has been forever hasn't it? LOL. XP**  
**Umm, so I've finally got this started again, and now that school is out you should be expecting a bit more from me. YAY!**  
**Well, I would like to dedicate this chapter to Highlandgirl1592, who is just so amazing to let me know some names of betas who I should look out for, which I haven't done yet! But have no fear, this story will very soon have a better and improve greatly! WOOO! **  
**Ok, well I guess i should let you read now! Thanks so much! XDDDD please dont forget to review.**

* * *

Jonathan paced around his apartment endlessly, a look of nervous agitation plastered on his pale face. He dried his wet shower hair with his towel, the raven black locks falling in his eyes limply. His shoes pounded the floor as his hands thumbed the corners of a post- it- note tirelessly, numerous paper cuts scattered across the young man's thumb. Jonathan stopped pacing and stared at the post- it- note, a phone number scrawled neatly on the paper in orange highlighter.

Jonathan scratched the back of his head thoughtfully and reviewed his current predicament.

He was to have dinner with Ciara Woods, a kind stranger he met no more than a few hours ago. How the hell did this happen? Was he to go out with this woman? Would it end badly if he did, should he cancel? After all he could, he did have her number in his hand right at that moment all he had to do—

Jonathan's thoughts were cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He frowned slightly as he fished for his phone in his pockets. He pulled out his phone and looked at the caller id. A number he did not know. He looked at his phone and then to the paper he held in his hand, the numbers matched. It was Ciara calling.

"Hello." He said answering the call. He was met by the chipper voice of Ciara.

"Jonathan? Hi, just calling to remind you about dinner. I was thinking we could go to that small cafe, about a block away from the grocery store. I don't quite remember the name, but, you know which one I'm talking about right? The one with all the ivy growing on the lamp posts?"

Jonathan sighed mentally, knowing that he could not cancel now. "Yes, I know which one you are talking about. I don't remember the name either but yes, I know that place.

"Great!" Ciara said happily, as she continued to speak in her cell. "I'm going to get ready, um, is 8 ok for you?"

Jonathan began slowly making his way to the bathroom, "Yeah, 8 is great for me. Well, if that's all I'm going to go now. Goodbye."

"Oh, of course, good bye!" Ciara called out in farewell, hanging up. Jonathan sighed deeply and shut his phone with a slight 'snap', he shook his head and grabbed his toothbrush, his thoughts racing madly. '_I'm just being way too paranoid_,' he thought dully, '_way too paranoid._' Jonathan cleared his mind and focused on getting ready.

* * *

Jonathan looked ahead and saw the small ivy covered lamp posts, and the cozy little café that he and Ciara were going to eat at. He couldn't seem to quell the fiery nervousness that bubbled in his empty stomach. He tried to push the feeling off as hunger but he knew that wasn't the case, he was nervous, not because of Ciara though, no. He was not nervous of eating dinner with some woman he just met. He wasn't getting _butterflies_ because of attraction. He was nervous because he's eating with a stranger, a _stranger_ who could be a cop, or private detective trailing him. He hated thinking that though, Ciara was kind and sweet, if not a bit too bubbly, but he didn't like thinking of her as vicious and evil. Jonathan just couldn't shake that feeling though, that nervous anticipation that this wasn't going to end well. So, Jonathan put the thoughts and feelings behind him and held his head high. He took a few steps closer to the café and stopped abruptly, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. There was Ciara. In the window.

Jonathan shifted his body top face her. She was reading a book, a good one he guessed; she looked rather immersed in it. Her left hand fingered the pages while her right hand fiddled with a lock of her wavy chestnut hair. Her mildly tan skin glowed in the low lighting of the café, throbbing in tune with the array of candles sitting on the window beside her.

She wasn't dressed very fancy, which made Jonathan rather pleased as he wasn't dressed up. She was in a navy blue sundress, which was perfect for the warmer weather that had been accuring after the harsh bouts of rain that had plagued the past few days. Still though, Jonathan could see a small white jacket sitting on top of her small purse next to her in the booth.

Her chestnut hair fell just above her shoulders, mid-neck, with heavy waves; her lips were bitten with a slightly tinted shine. And her eyes were fixated on a book. Even from his distance he could see her beautiful light brown eyes, shone brightly as ever, the golden specks that swam in the chocolate waters glistened in the low light. Jonathan thought she actually looked beautiful.

Jonathan realized as he shook himself out of the thought, that Scarecrow was sizing her up. Checking her through Jonathan's eyes. He only prayed that Scarecrow wouldn't make an appearance tonight, he desperately prayed. For Ciara's sake.

Jonathan entered the small café and looked at the hostess, motioning with his finger to Ciara.

"I'm with her." He said quietly. The hostess smiled and nodded handing him his menu. Jonathan thanked her and walked slowly to where Ciara was sitting. He stopped at the table and waited patiently for her to acknowledge him. She must've caught a glimpse of his leg and she looked up. Her beautiful brown eyes locked with his and a wide smile broke out on her lips before she stood up quickly.

"Oh, Jonathan, I'm so happy you could make it!" She said brightly, clasping his hand and shaking it again. "Thanks so much for doing this."

He smiled as they both sat down, "No, thank you for allowing me this pleasure," his deep blue eyes still locked on hers. She really did have beautiful eyes. "I hope you weren't waiting long."

"Oh no! Not at all, I come here to read a lot so I came here a bit early to get a few pages in." She said softly, a soft blush scratched across her cheeks. Jonathan laughed.

"Yes, I used to do that often too. Not here but at a coffee shop downtown. Of course that was when I didn't have to worry about work….. So, do you read a lot Ciara?" Jonathan said changing the subject. Ciara nodded, and smiled her lips turning upwards slightly.

"Oh, yes. I read all the time. It started when I was a child; I always had my nose in a book. It really never mattered what it was about I would just read it. I'm not really picky about books, sometimes just for fun, I'll pick a random book off the shelf at the library and just read it. It usually takes me an hour to finish it, 2 if it really drags on." Ciara said slowly, her hand in her hair, a smile delicately upturning her pink lips.

Jonathan smiled. She reminded him of himself at the moment.

"Yeah," Jonathan said through a smile, "I used to do that on the weekends in college. Usually it took a _really bad_ book to push me away, because like you, I'm not picky."

Ciara smiled. Looked up to the waiter standing at the table and ordered her drink and food. Jonathan did the same. There was a slight pause in the air after the waiter left quietly; hoping not to disturb what he thought was a date.

"So," Jonathan said breaking the silence, "Ciara's an Irish name is it not?"

Ciara's face brightened at this, obviously happy that someone was familiar with her name. "Yes! Do you know what it means though?" She asked sarcastically, her eyes squinted, as she leaned forward on the table.

"Hmm, yes, I do believe that it means black, or dark does it not?" Jonathan said, taking a sip of his water.

"Yes it does. My mother and father were both Irish, so me being their only daughter I guess they decided to grant me a little bit of their heritage." Ciara said, her smile slipping slightly, her eyes dulled at the mention of her parents.

"Oh, yes, my mom was Irish too. That's how I know; she always said if she had a daughter she would like to name her Ciara." Jonathan said softly, smiling a bit to encourage her. It didn't seem right seeing her sad.

"Really! Oh that's so sweet!" Ciara said chipperly, obviously not sad anymore, not in the slightest. There was a pause as the waiter came back, he was a young man, probably a college student, and he smiled brightly as he placed everyone's food in front of them. He was thanked and he left, walking swiftly through the small café.

"So Jonathan what do you do for a living?" Ciara asked as she swiveled her fork in her spaghetti absently. Jonathan winced at the question, how would he respond? He knows she's just making small talk but it puts him in a very awkward position. He knows he can't tell her the truth. He's just going to have to stretch the truth a bit.

"Err, that's a bit complicated."

"Oh, y- you're not unemployed are you? I'm so sorry!" Ciara stuttered, her face flushing in embarrassment at her supposed horribly rude words.

"No, no, I'm currently 'in between' jobs I guess you could say. I'm quitting my current job as soon as I can find a new one, hopefully a better one."

Ciara calmed at his tone, obviously realizing she hadn't offended him. She took a sip of her tea and asked, "Alright then, what do you do currently?"

"I'm a psychologist at Arkham Asylum."

Ciara's face lit up at this. "Really? Wow. That must be really interesting. I had heard there were some breakouts a while back from a friend, but I was out of town when that happened so I didn't get details about it. How'd you deal with it?"

Jonathan mentally breathed a sigh of relief; good, she didn't know about him, she couldn't have seen the news report about him. Still though, he should proceed with caution around this particular topic, in case she is of suspicion.

"We searched and caught the ones that escaped. Some didn't get as far as others did, it was a difficult task but we got it done. Anyway, what do you do Ciara?" Jonathan said calmly, choosing his words carefully as he broke down the steps that Arkham and the police had done while he was on the run and the patients were still on the loose. He realized that it had been a good few months since then.

"Well, up until about a few months ago I was a full time student at Gotham University, but recent events caused me to drop out, so currently I'm a waitress at a coffee shop. " Ciara said softly, as she stirred her water with her straw, acting as if it was an interesting pastime. "It's not a particularly interesting job, but it'll work for now until I can earn enough money to return to school. I've been saving up for a while and I'm getting really close to having enough to go back, I estimate that I can return next fall."

"Why did you have to drop out?" Jonathan asked, his brow furrowed.

"Well, my parents were paying for my tuition and I guess their income ran out so I had to drop out or we lost the house and stuff. So, my schooling was something we_ had_ to cut." Ciara said softly, her gaze in her lap.

Jonathan had not spoken for some time and Ciara looked up, to find Jonathan staring at her rather intently, his gaze boring into her. She offered as small tepid smile, her lips curving upward slightly. Jonathan did not return the smile; instead he continued to keep his gaze fixated on her. Ciara felt her heart thump painfully as a chill of fear rolled down her spine, her breath hitched slightly as her eyes made contact with his. Something wasn't right about Jonathan's eyes. They seemed steely and harsh, like a violent storm, not calm and bright like they usually were. Ciara felt anxiety creep up on her as eye contact was kept, Ciara just couldn't remove her eyes. It seemed almost as if someone else was looking through Jonathan's eyes and it felt, as if in that second, Jonathan was gone and another presence emerged, shadowed in the grey recesses, lurking.

The feeling was gone as quickly as it came, the steely look was replaced by one of bewilderment and amusement as Jonathan's face erupted into the tiniest of smiles.

Ciara blinked. Was she seeing things now? Was the odd feeling just a trick of the light?

'_I'm being stupid_, Ciara thought, _Jonathan __**can't**__ have other people looking through him. It was just a trick of the light, and maybe Jonathan didn't realize I was smiling until a fraction of a second later? Yeah, that's all it was.'_

Still though, Ciara could shake the feeling that it wasn't Jonathan in those eyes for that little second. It was unrealistic but that's how she felt.

"Are you alright Ciara?" Jonathan asked.

"Huh? Ciara said knocked out of her thoughts, "Oh, yes of course."

* * *

Ciara and Jonathan stood outside of Ciara's apartment, in the darkness of the nearing night.

"Well, Jonathan, thank you for accepting my offer for dinner and cleaning my conscious. I'd be a nervous wreck right about now," Ciara said as she leaned against the door of her apartment. "Sorry again about running you over!"

"Please, it's alright, like I said no harm was done."

Ciara looked up at Jonathan and smiled. "Well, it's not like this was a date or anything but I had a really nice time. Oh, please don't think of me as a creep or something for saying that!" Jonathan laughed a little as Ciara babbled on nervously, her voice shrill as she tried to justify her words.

"Believe me I don't think you are a creep," Jonathan said, calming her, "I had a nice time myself."

"Oh. Good."

"Well," Jonathan said quickly, "I really should be getting back home." Jonathan said, quietly taking a step backwards.

"Of course! Well goodbye Jonathan! It was nice seeing you!" Ciara said, with her usual bubbly tone and bright smile. Jonathan waved in retreat as he glided down the concrete steps. The two retreated in their opposite directions, thinking they would never see the faces of the other.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Gosh, Its been such a long time, sorry guys, summer wasn't that fun and I tried my hardest to write as much as I could but it was hard. Well, I really like this chapter, it was so much fun to write, I'm all shakey from it Wooo!**

**WARNINGS: Language and Violence. Nothing too terrible if you dont like it though, dont read.**

House of Mirrors

Nearly 2 months had passed since Ciara had last seen Jonathan.

Her mental image of him was fuzzy and fading out. She couldn't remember his face very well, but his eyes were the only thing that burned in her mind, a bright heavenly blue. Sometimes she would remember that night, and the steely look that glazed over his eyes, that uncomfortable feeling of someone, something lurking in his eyes, seeing through her. She tried to forget that memory though, and settle on remember his laugh or something. Honestly, she didn't know why she was trying so hard to remember him…maybe it was because she felt so out of touch with the world recently. Maybe, it was because she had been feeling alone since she stopped school.

_Since she stopped school,_ No, that wasn't right, since _they_ made her _quit_ school. She'd been feeling alone since her parents stopped paying for her tuition and she had to quit, all because they had become lazy about their finances.

That was probably it, She was feeling lonely and Jonathan was the closest thing to a friend she'd had in a while.

Ciara looked down at the grey cement under her feet as she walked home, kicking stones with her tennis shoe clad feet. Her hands were deep in the pockets of her skinny jeans as she chewed her bubble gum as she continued the long tread to her apartment.

'_Well',_ she thought, _'Missing my bus just put an end to another ugly day.'_

Ciara had missed her bus from work to the bus stop a block from her home, so like a few other nights Ciara had to walk home, already exhausted from a hard day's work. Better yet, she had to pass through the bad part of town. Ciara looked up from the ground and into the darkening night, just a few slivers of light were shining in the sky, attempting to peak through the heavy city skyscrapers. Ciara smiled slightly at the gentle calm that had settled over the night.

Ciara looks back down, continuously kicking a beaten pebble with her feet. Her mind times the clicks that follow with every push the pebble receives with her foot. She kicked it once more, but something blocked the poor pebble. Ciara frowned; the object appeared to be a shoe….a big shoe… Even after the pebble had stopped moving, Ciara had continued walking, that is until she crashed into the hard chest of a man.

"Oh! Sorry sir, I should've been paying more attention." Ciara said as she looked up. When she did though, her heart sank. This man didn't look to friendly. He had a wicked, sinister looking smile and a deep small scar on his chin. His eyes were dark and endless, like black holes in his face.

"Oh don't worry about me… now; what is a pretty girl like you doing around here so late?"

Ciara winced inwardly a bit when the man spoke, his voice was deep and sonorous, sending frightened chills up her spine. Ciara gulped.

"Oh," Ciara screeched out nervously as she began backing away from the man, his presence sending danger signs throughout her body, "I was just meeting up with a friend, so I uh, better hurry on now." Ciara stuttered out as she rung on the hem of her skirt, fear licking at her stomach as she pushed past the man. Ciara made it a few steps away from the man, when two others emerged from the shadows and took an iron grip to her thin arm. One man was of average build with spiky blonde hair and baggy jeans, while the other was tall and very thin, skeleton like almost, but quivered with hidden strength. They reached over her shoulder and grabbed her purse, throwing it on the ground and stashing it behind them, Ciara was thankful she had all her valuables in the pocket of her sweatshirt.

"Ooh, boss," the blonde one sneered out as he peered at Ciara, "This one's kinda cute."

Ciara's eyes grew wide in fear when she heard those words. _'Oh god,_ she thought, _are they going to…?'_

"Get on the ground."

"What?"

"You heard me, get on the ground and shuddup."

Ciara stood still, frozen in fear at the situation. The leader of sorts growled at her incompliance and took the liberty of throwing her to the ground, Ciara's body hitting the ground harshly, and leaving her breathless. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes as the men took a step closer. When the shadows covered her view of the moon, she began to cry.

"HELP ME! PLEAAASE SOMEONE HEELP ME!" Ciara cried out, her screams echoing around in the night.

"Shut up!" One man spat out, his voice stinging like venom as he tried to cover Ciara's mouth. She struggled and bit his hand, anything to keep her mouth open.

"Help, Help me please!" Ciara continued to screech out with all her being, begging and praying that someone would hear her, and save her.

Jonathan was sitting at his desk, fingering through documents on Scarecrows latest fear toxin, looking over the modifications made. He set down his set of papers and ran a hand over his face, feeling drowsiness take grip on him. He sat up from his desk and stretched his cramped muscles, before looking at the calendar, hanging lopsidedly from the wall. Just as he thought…trash day.

He groaned a bit and walked over to the small kitchen of his ratty apartment, and grabbed the trash bag. He slung the black smelly piece of oversized plastic over his shoulder and inched his way to the back door. He swung the door open, the wood creaking on its rusty hinges, and walked into the night. He trudged tiredly to the apartments overly large dumpster when something unusual hit his ears….was it screams? Jonathan stopped walking for a moment; the only sound in the night was his breathing….and then another scream. Jonathan normally would ignore the sounds, as it was a normal part of the soundtrack in this town, but something about the scream made his insides crawl. He dumped the trash in the dumpster quickly, and tried to ignore the curiosity burning in his mind. But then he heard it, words distant in the night.

"HELP ME, please someone help me!"

Something in that voice made him freeze in his tracks. The voice sounded a bit like someone he knew, but logically he knew better than to rush in there like a goddamn hero, and he couldn't call the police because he couldn't risk the police coming near his house, he was on the run after all, how stupid would that be? He stood frozen for a few moments, completely and utterly confused as to what to do, what if it was somebody he knew, or what if he rushed over there and realized that it wasn't anybody of importance. But still though as if adapting to the situation, his body moved of its own accord as he slipped back in the house and grabbed a few things from the duffle bag he kept locked away in the closet. He slipped out of his apartment and began creeping closer to the place of the screams.

Scarecrow did not take over yet, oh no, he was just nudging Jonny in the proper direction is all. Jonny will call for me when he needs it.

Right now Jonathan was quickly running closer to where he thinks the screams originated, but nothing prepared him for what he saw. He ran over to find 3 men huddling over a small petite woman, who all appeared to be Ciara. His eyes widened in shock and he felt fury begin to bubble in his stomach.

"What the fuck?" One man cursed loudly when he saw Jonathan approach. He hastily stepped away from Ciara and drew the attention of the other two, who turned around quickly, but calmed down, obviously not intimidated by Jonathan.

"Let her go!" Jonathan hissed out, his voice loud and booming, echoing mildly in the night.

"_Way to go, nice cliché rescue line there, Jonny" Scarecrow_ said sarcastically. Jonathan blinked when he heard the familiar voice ringing in his head, but quickly shook it off and decided to focus on the matter at hand.

The oldest of the three men: obviously the ring leader of sorts slowly took a few steps toward Jonathan, sighing heavily as he did so. "Look buddy, why don't you mind your own business and stop trying to be a goddamn hero before we are forced to blow your head off."

"_Not very intimidating words there, fatty,"_ Scarecrow said bitterly_, "Hey Jonny, why don't you let me deal with him and the other two, it will be done before you even realize it and your precious little conscience won't be tarnished in any way, and then your little girlfriend will still think you are a hero." _

'No way in hell, Scarecrow.' Jonathan retorted back viciously.

"Look, just let her go and no one will get hurt." Jonathan said loudly, his voice losing some of its power as Scarecrow began picking at the wires in his head once again.

The older man looked amused by his words slightly, and he smirked and let out a hollow dirty laugh. It was deep and snarly and made Jonathan shiver a bit, but he kept up his façade of power.

"Ok pal look, you have a choice: You can leave and mind your own business and forget this and return to whatever shit you were doing prior to this, OR, you could stay and watch as we cut up your little friend," The man paused smirking devilishly as he pulled up a gun and held it at an angle to Jonathan's head. "It's your choice."

Jonathan just stood there for a moment, staring down the barrel of the man's gun, his hair standing on end, and fear bubbling in his stomach. He looked to the other men, and then at Ciara, who appeared to be struggling with staying conscience. But then, doing something he never would do, he stepped into the darkness and let it envelop him.

'_Smart choice, Jonny.'_

"So, have you made a choice now, bud—"The man began viciously but was interrupted.

"—would you like to see my mask?"

"What the hell man? Look at the situation you're in asshole, what the hell is your problem?" The man asked, his brow twisted in confusion, as he continued to stare at Jonathan.

"I asked," Jonathan continued, his voice gradually changing, the volume of his words increasing after every word, slowing growing raspy before it was a furious growl, "Would you like to see my mask?"

The older man backtracked, "What the hell—"

"I'm taking that as a yes."

Before the older man could even process what was going on, Scarecrow had emerged and whipped on the burlap sack and had doused the man in a lung-full of his new fear toxin. Scarecrow nearly cackled out in glee as the man resulted to writhing on the damp concrete floor screaming in complete terror at whatever shitty hallucinations he was imagining.

The other two men's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and attempted to run off away from Scarecrow, tripping over each other and clambering up to their feet. But, Scarecrow was faster, in a short matter of second Scarecrow had managed to grab the terrified man's gun from the concrete floor. He raised his arm and shot the two henchmen, a bullet hitting its target right in the middle of the eyes. Both men fall down to the floor, dead.

Scarecrows arm falls back to his side, slightly heavier because of the weight of the gun. He surveys his handiwork with a mild hum of interest.

"Ooooh, Jonny is not going to like this." Scarecrow cooed out happily.

He was snapped out of his happiness when a sound drew his attention to the dumpster to his right. He pulled the burlap sack off his head, tousling his sweaty raven waves, as he snapped his head in the direction of the sound, the motion similar to a bird spotting prey.

He quickly placed the burlap sack away into the back pocket of his frayed jeans, much of it falling out of the small space, before he raised his gun and crept closer to the dumpster. Upon his arrival he found an unconscious Ciara sprawled out behind the dumpster, where she had managed to crawl during the fight. Scarecrow took note that Ciara was still fully clothed, realized that they hadn't done to her what Jonny had thought. He sighed before hearing another sound. It was the sound of whimpering, there were no dogs around so it had to be the poor soul that had received Scarecrows fear toxin.

Scarecrow stood up and walked back to the center of the alley, where the old, large man lay, curled up in a man-like ball, whimpering like a kicked dog. 'The poor bastard had stopped screaming a while ago.' Scarecrow noted sadly, but he continued to stare at the writhing man, taking in every ounce of his silent agony. After he got his fill, he bent down to his knees, leaning over the frightened man, a smirk played on his lips.

"Hope you enjoyed my mask." Scarecrow whispered in the man's ear, earning a shiver and a whimper before he placed the barrel of the gun to the side of his head and pulled the trigger, stopping the whimper silent.

He whipped the grin off his face and then stood up tall, before throwing the gun down in a sewage drain and then walking over the dumpster where Ciara now resided, he peered over at her for a few moments, just letting his steely blue-grey eyes wash over her. After a minute or two he scooped her up into his arms and carried her over to Jonathan's apartment, opened the noisy back door and slipped into the house, as silent as night.


	5. Author's Note

**Hey Guys. Wow its been forever. I'm here just to let you know that I have totally not abandoned this story. Its been a bit over a year, and I know a lot of you have probably given up hope. But I'm here to revive this.**

**I'm back. :3**

**A lot has happened since I started this story, and that delayed the writing process greatly, also i kind of just became lazy and lacked the interest in the damn thing...but I have made a new vow to start writing again. Even the stories that I hardly ever write for anymore. SO LET THE WRITING BEGIN! But, still be aware, I'm starting my first year of high school this fall, and I have a feeling that school will also suck up a lot of my time. LOL. But I will still try to update.**

**So, I doubt very many of you are even reading this, and those of you that are, sorry you have to get your hopes up for nothing. I just wanted to give you guys a bit of a heads up. Save you from the heart attack of getting an alert from me. XD I'm not going to promise anything...but I suspect that the chapter will be up soon. At least by the end of the month.**

**Oh and to those of you that read my other stories, I was thinking of deleting some of my other stories, so if you want copies... now would be the time to get them. IDK if you do... just putting that out there.**

**Well, I've got to go, so goodnight my beautiful readers, and sleep tight. I love you all.**

**With tons of love,**

**Snowfire**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Its finally here, like promised. I am not really too happy with this, i feel it is a bit rushed but it is a good way to get things started up again I guess. I had two versions of this, the first one was a lot better but for some reason my computer was not saving properly that day and I had to start over from the middle. This chapter is a bit shorter than my others but they may grow longer in time. I hope they will. I am extremely excited about continuing this story, I feel I have good things in stock. Hooray! For some extra help on my part, there is a poll regarding this story on my profile. Check it out if you want. Thanks.**

**Remember to review, that is my only form of writing help so it is greatly appreciated! Let me know what your thoughts are on the story (maybe even give your thoughts on what happens I love reading those lol)**

**So without any further interruptions, here is chapter 5.**

* * *

When Ciara came to, she was greeted by the dim streaks of morning through the thin curtains of the small apartment windows. She yawned slightly when she woke, opening her honey brown eyes to the gentle light around her. Unfamiliarity seeped into her bones as she realized the location of her surroundings. Or lack of.

She felt a lump grow in her throat as icy acid flowed into her stomach, making her want to vomit at the feeling of uneasiness. She closed her eyes and pinched her arm, hoping to find it all to be a dream and she would wake up at her apartment. Late for work and rushing out the door. But despite her hopes she remained in the small bedroom. She blinked hard and tried to make sense of her surroundings, panic burrowing in her chest with every flicker of her eye. When she realized the area around her didn't seem tremendously dangerous, her breathing slowly began to calm. She wasn't dead or bleeding, and the bedroom seemed comfortably normal to her. Still though, she was mostly relieved that she was alive.

Still noting the predicament she was in, Ciara pushed herself up into a sitting position but immediately regretted it. Her head pounded in her skull, a deep throbbing pain erupted through her whole body, making a ring in her ear buzz and her head drop back down with a grunt. Every breath sent shards of glass through her brain, and watery tears tickled at her eyelashes. It felt like a nasty hangover. But she did not recall drinking last night, or any night this week. Slowly, the pain subsided, and it began to target one area. The back of her head. It felt almost as though she had been _hit_ there. Had she?

Ignoring the protests that her poor head was giving her, logic overruled, and it said to get the hell out. She could live with that decision. Easily. So with a shaky breath, Ciara pulled herself to a sitting position, and swung her legs over to the edge of the bed. Her head was pounding, and her breath came out in agonized pants, but she could do this. She _fucking_ had to.

She moved slowly, as to avoid causing the creaky bed any disturbance; she placed her socked feet on the wooden floor below her. She rose up from the bed, smoothed out the sheets and looked around her. No one was in the room. Maybe this would be an easy get away after all. With a new vigor, she padded her way to the door, inching to her destination as silently as possible. When she reached her destination, she placed her small ear to the door, straining her ears to hear any noise on the other side.

'_Looks like no one's home,_' she thought with a smirk. Cautiously, she turned the handle, and swung the door open—

Looking straight at the face of a shocked raven haired man.

"J-Jonathan," She cried out, "W-what are you doing here?"

The young man looked at her with some surprise, but he gave her a tiny smile of reassurance.  
"I live here. I was going to check to see if you were awake. I can see that you are now."

Ciara looked up at the face of the man she had been thinking about endlessly for weeks, dreading that she would never see again. Yet here he was, flesh and blood, looking down at her from his height, intimidating and mesmerizing, and all so _very real_. At the sight of that familiar face, Ciara's heartbeat calms, and the anticipation and anxiousness oozed away. It was still there, but no more than a gentle thump in her bones.

"What am I doing here?" She asked, her honey brown eyes scanning Jonathan's pale face, as if searching for answers in his pores. "How did I get here?"

Jonathan flicks his eyes to the couch in the other room, moving his body to allow her to pass through the doorframe. "Maybe you want to sit down?"

Ciara looks up, nods shakily and glides over. She sinks down on the worn couch, reveling in the softness that comes with age.

"Ciara," Jonathan began, his silky voice containing a hint of concern, making her palms sweat underneath her, "Do you remember anything about last night?"

With a small shake of her head, Ciara leans back onto the couch, watching Jonathan for any hints he could be giving her with his facial movements. There were none.  
"I remember bits and pieces but not a whole lot."

"Okay. Tell me what you do know then."

"I was walking home from work," she gulped, and smoothed down her hair with a shaky hand, "And these men came out of the shadows. They started to t-talk to me, and I just tried to get away. But the tallest one g-grabbed me and threw me on the ground. I-I thought they were going to—."

At this, Ciara began to babble a bit, not really crying, but dangerously close. Jonathan placed a long hand on her shoulder clumsily trying to console her. She smiled and looked up at him, her honey eyes littered with tears. She laughed and rubbed her nose.

"Sorry about that." She apologized sheepishly.

"Don't be," Jonathan responded, "I would offer you tissues but I don't have any."

Ciara laughed, "It's okay. Thanks though."

"The important thing is nothing happened."

"What did happen, Jonathan?" Ciara asked. Her face twisted in confusion as her brain struggled to put the pieces together. How did she get here? How did Jonathan play into all this? What happened to the men that attacked her?

"Well," Jonathan replied smoothly, "To my understanding, when you were attacked, you started screaming. I heard the screams and rushed out to find you on the ground. The men ran away as soon as they heard me coming. But you passed out almost immediately afterward."

"So _you_ saved me?" Ciara asked, her eyes widening in admiration.

"I guess so," Jonathan said with a small smile, "If you think of it that way."

"Well of course I think of it that way!" Ciara said, pulling her legs under her, "If you hadn't had come out…who knows what could have happened. God, thank you so much Jonathan."

Jonathan eyed Ciara with an amused look. "Its okay Ciara, there is no need to thank me for it. I just did what any good person around this place should do. I hope you don't mind me bringing you here?

"Oh no! Of course not! Why would I be mad? Its so much better than you leaving me out to rot in the streets, or just calling the cops to pick me up!" Ciara said with a chuckle, "I'm sure most people would have."

"Yeah. I don't think I would have acted the way I did if I didn't know you." Jonathan said truthfully_. 'Then again, why did Scarecrow bring Ciara here?'_

"Out of curiosity," Ciara began, "Why didn't you call the cops?"

Jonathan froze to the spot. His blood became ice in his veins, he felt himself hesitate, but he recovered quickly. "Things like this happen all the time here in the Slums, it's my natural response not to get the authorities involved."

"Oh," Ciara said a bit surprised by the sincerity in Jonathan's usually smooth voice. "I guess that makes sense. And you don't think this is serious enough to take to the authorities do you? I hear that this Gordon guy is good at catching people…"

"No!" Jonathan said a bit too quickly, startling himself with the pleading in his voice, "I don't think this is a serious enough offence. I mean…the guys were just total scumbags…nothing happened…"

Ciara looked at Jonathan suspiciously. _What the hell was that?_ She thought.

"No I understand…I don't really remember what happened…It would be a different story if they actually did something." She agreed half-heartedly, hoping that her tone would not show her hesitation.

There was a small bout of silence between the two, nothing was said, and no one made a noise. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but it sure wasn't something Ciara wanted to revel in. Ciara coughed in her hand and shifted on her bottom, about to speak when Jonathan beat her to it.

"There is some leftover pizza in the fridge if you want some."

Ciara smiled. But she knew that tone of voice that Jonathan had. The classic _'I am really busy right now but stay in my house and distract me while I push off the things that I really should be doing at the moment.'_ Yeah Ciara had heard that tone of voice more than once.

Ciara shook her head, her limp brown curls obstructing her view for a moment, before they were swatted aside. "No, Jonathan, thank you though. I should really get going…I had work this morning and I'm sure my boss is worried about me."

"Oh, alright then." Jonathan said, standing up.

"Ah," Ciara called out right before she reached the door, "I forgot my jacket on the bed!"

With that she slipped away for a moment, and weaved through the small apartment to the bedroom at the end. She opened the door, and peered inside, finding her oversized, grey sweatshirt lying folded at the foot of the mattress. She walked across the room to get it when her elbow collided with the door to what she guessed was a closet. She heard a large crash and the familiar sound of heavy objects falling assaulted her ears.

'_Great, let's break all his stuff now.'_

Casually she rubbed at her red elbow, and opened the closet door, watching with a wince as boxes and miscellaneous items fell at her feet.

"Crap," She muttered under her breath. With a quickening heart she piled the objects back into the boxes without much thought, until she felt a scratchy tug on the palms of her hands. She looked down to find a small burlap sack in her hands, with eye holes cut out, and a poorly sewn mouth. She frowned at the potato sack in her hands. This thing was really creepy. Why would Jonathan have something like this? Did he dress up as some Demon Scarecrow at Halloween parties or something?

She was about to put the object back in the box, when she looked at the sack a bit closer. There was something about those eye holes. She couldn't see Jonathan's beautiful blue irises in place of those black endless voids, there was no way the menacing mask could scare anyone with those heavenly blue orbs. They were of an unnatural beauty that could never be frightening.

'_But what about those steely eyes of his that you saw at the restaurant?'_ She thought suddenly. Ciara paused for a moment, the image of the steely grey eyes burned behind her eyelids. She frowned at the image, but tried to ignore the ice that sunk into her stomach.

Shaking her head frantically, Ciara threw the creepy mask back in the box, and placed the other objects back in the box. He stood up, and reached up to place the cardboard back on the tall shelf. With quickened steps, Ciara grabbed her stuff and walked out of the bedroom, to find Jonathan standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter looking deep in thought.

"All good?" He called out with a smile.

"Yeah," Ciara said with a smile, slipping the sweater on over her head.

Jonathan then proceeded to walk Ciara out guiding her with his hand ghosting on the crook of her arm, never quite touching the flesh. They took calm, slow strides to the apartment door.

"Take care Ciara," Jonathan called out suddenly, when Ciara figured they would leave without a goodbye. Why was she expecting one? They aren't even friends, she reminded herself.

She smirked a bit, and turned around to face him admiring the image of his face for a moment.  
"I will Jonathan. I promise."

"Good. Something like that happens all the time, but it doesn't justify it."

"In your honest opinion though," she gnawed at her lip, "Do you think I should call the cops?"

"No," Jonathan said calmly, his dark hair falling against his cheekbones as he looked down at his shoes. "I mean, you could I guess. I doubt you remember enough to actually help the authorities out though. It was dark so you couldn't get an actual description of their faces or anything… its just better if you leave it alone."

Ciara blinked, then smiled deeply. "Thanks Jonathan. For everything."

He gave a small smile in return, "Your welcome, Ciara."

Without another word Ciara turned around and walked away, her short hair swishing behind her. Jonathan watched her go for a moment, before opening his apartment door and going back inside. He walked expertly through the darkened flat, and sat down at his couch and sighed. So much had happened. So much having to do with Ciara… He leaned his head against his hand and closed his eyes.

Somewhere sinister, Scarecrow stirred.


End file.
